


Down the Rabbit Hole

by aurora_australis



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: A bit of Lewis Carroll, F/M, MFMM Year of Quotes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 16:20:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15755376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurora_australis/pseuds/aurora_australis
Summary: It’s well known among the lads at City South that there are three things you should never, ever disparage around Senior Constable Hugh Collins - the boxer Snowy Baker, the Abbotsford Football Club, and his wife.Some people, it seems, have not gotten the memo.Inspired by the August Challenge quote: "Bite me."





	Down the Rabbit Hole

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bluecityrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluecityrose/gifts).



> My contribution to the MFMM Year of Quotes -- August Challenge.
> 
> Inspired by the quote: “Bite me.”
> 
> Many thanks to Fire_Sign for the beta read!

It was a most peculiar crime scene.

A long table, set out under a tree in front of the house, laid out for a tea party. On the table, in addition to the tea things, were two vases, one with red roses and one with white, a rabbit’s foot charm, and three playing cards - the Queen, King and Jack of hearts. The table was set for a number of guests, but there was only one in attendance: the victim. Seated at the head of the table. Dead.

Hugh didn’t know what it all meant, but he was certain it was creepy. Sometimes, he wished the murderers of Melbourne could be just a _little_ less creative.

He stood taking notes, a bit to the side and as far away as possible while still being able to hear everything his DI and Miss Fisher said. Dot stood next to her husband, taking her own notes. It was nice. Maybe not the kind of quality time with the wife he’d envisioned growing up, but it was theirs and he enjoyed it.

He just could do without this particular crime scene.

“So Miss Fisher, what do you think?” Jack asked, leaning on the tree and watching his partner survey the scene.

“Well the theme seems obvious enough.”

“Indeed.”

“Do we have a cause of death yet?” she asked.

“No obvious signs of trauma. We’ll need to wait for the medical examiner’s report, of course, but poison seems the most obvious answer.”

“Well, if you drink much from a bottle marked ‘poison,’ it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later,” she replied with a knowing smile.

Hugh saw his DI smile, briefly, before setting his face back in a frown. _An inside joke_ , Hugh thought. _Or maybe a quote?_ They were forever doing that. He turned to his wife.

“Is that from something?” he asked quietly.

“It’s from _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_ , Hugh. Much like our crime scene,” Phryne answered.

 _Right_ , Hugh remembered. _Eyes of a fox, ears of a bat._

Phryne made her way to the head of the table, Jack pushing off the tree to join her. They examined the place setting in front of the victim. He was an older man, wealthy by all appearances, though Hugh knew appearances could be deceiving.

Before the man was a plate (empty), a bottle (also empty), and a piece of currant cake.

“No notes,” Phryne observed.

“No. The bottle should say ‘DRINK ME’,” Jack noted.

“Indeed,” Phryne concurred. Then she turned to the Inspector playfully, as though to test him. “And the cake?” she asked. “What should that say?”

 _Oh!_ Hugh thought. _I know this one!_

“BITE ME!” Hugh yelled excitedly.

Every head within 20 feet turned to look at him. Hugh glanced around, suddenly embarrassed.

“It’s EAT ME,” Dot corrected quietly.

“Though I’m not certain you should yell that in crowd either,” Jack said, with the barest hint of amusement.

“Depends on the crowd,” Phryne noted, with quite a bit of amusement.

Hugh looked down at his notes, trying not to blush. Dottie noticed and gently bumped his arm affectionately. He looked down at her and she smiled, and he forgot his gaffe completely.

They’d been married a year and a half now. And it was… great. Really great. Not perfect. They argued. Sometimes intensely. But they also listened. To each other, to their mentors. They tried. They loved each other. And it was really, really great.

Of course, it also helped that they had the best son in the entire world.

Little Thomas Collins was the apple of his parents’ eyes. Six months old now, he was fond of sitting up, smiling, and putting anything and everything into his mouth. 

Hugh smiled, thinking about his boy. He looked at his wristwatch. Napping now, probably. He stayed at his Gran’s or with Mr. Butler when Dot was in the field. She did quite a bit from home or Wardlow, but Phryne still appreciated her keen eye on a crime scene, and Dot was delighted to assist. It was hard, Hugh knew, for her to leave little Tommy. But it was also important to her. He tried his best to be supportive. It still wasn’t what he would have chosen for her, but he’d learned by now that choosing for her wasn’t how their marriage would stay great. He was pulled out of his thoughts by Miss Fisher addressing the subject of his thoughts.

“Any observations, Dot?” she asked.

“Well,” Dot began, stepping closer to the victim to have a look. “It’s very… pretty, isn’t it?”

Hugh heard a snort from behind him. He bristled, but ignored it.

“How do you mean, Dot?” Miss Fisher asked.

“Well, it’s bone china. And do you see the pattern. It’s… distinctive. I think it’s Albert Crown China.”

Phryne picked up one of the teacups and turned it over, showing Dot, Hugh, and Jack the backstamp. “It’s rather stylized, isn't it? Script combined with some kind of Art Deco lettering.”

“Yes, miss,” Dot confirmed. “Definitely Albert Crown. And one of their newer patterns at that. So new, in fact, that it might not be too hard to track down who bought this particular set. I could help. If you want to follow that lead, that is,” she added.

“Of course we will, Mrs. Collins. Well spotted,” Jack said.

“Thank you, sir,” she said with a small smile, which, much to her embarrassment, became a rather large yawn. “Oh, I’m so sorry!”

“Nothing to be sorry for, Mrs. Collins. You’re welcome to rest up at the main house for bit if you like. Come find us if you think of anything else.”

“Perhaps I will, sir. Just for a moment.” Dot gave her husband a little wave and began the short walk up to the house.

When she was out of earshot, Hugh heard the source of the snort speak up once more, clearly unaware Hugh could hear him.

“Good thing we had the housewife here to spot the fact that the china was china, eh? Otherwise how would we _know_?” 

“Watch it, Cooper….”, said Constable Brown in a low voice. 

“Or what? She’ll knit me an unflattering jumper? Forget the sugar in my tea? Tell me to _hush?_ I’m terrified.” Constable Cooper’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. He sighed. “Can’t believe we’ve got all these skirts at a crime scene. It’s a bloody disgrace.”

“Shut it, mate,” Constable Brown warned.

Hugh tried to keep his calm, he really did. He was a Senior Constable now. He needed to let these things go.

“Plus she’s got a tyke at home, and honestly mate, no mum worth her salt leaves her kid behind to traipse around a crime scene. Bloody useless, isn’t it? Not really a detective and not really a wife.”

That. Was. It.

“Oi!”

Hugh spun around and advanced on the two men standing a short distance behind him. Constable Brown, being the smarter of the two men who had very recently been reassigned to City South, stepped to the side. He was not about to align himself with this fool.

“You!” Hugh pointed to Constable Cooper. “You got something to say about my wife? I’m all ears!”

Constable Cooper, being the dumbest bastard at City South, decided to double down on his statement.

“Look, mate, no offense, you’re a decent enough copper, but what the hell good does it do to have the little woman at a crime scene? Can’t even hack it on her feet all morning.” He leaned in a little conspiratorially as though they were chums. They were _not_. “It’s bad enough we got the DI’s fancy bird hangin' around all the time, but at least she doesn’t have any little kiddies at home. Your wife should be home with your boy. A mum can’t just _be_ a detective because she wanders onto a crime scene. And I think you know it.”

Hugh narrowed his eyes and got impossibly closer to Cooper, his body language that of a boxer on the offensive.

“What I know, Constable Cooper, is that my Dottie is the strongest person I know, and honestly, you wouldn’t last a day in her shoes. But if you want to give it a go I’m happy to help you out. So how about this; I’ll come over to your house tonight. You cook me dinner, and then do the washing up and take care of a thousand other little things around the house. Then - because you’re right, we have a baby - I’m going to wake you up three or four times overnight. By _screaming_. That will be fun for you, don’t you think? Then you get up first thing and _cheerfully_ make me breakfast and make sure the baby is cared for and THEN you show up at a crime scene and be twice the detective some idiot constable hanging around the periphery is, spouting off nonsense he knows nothing about. How’s that sound?

Constable Cooper was silent. A unexpectedly wise move on his part. Hugh continued.

“Cuz you’re right, Cooper; a mum can’t _just_ be a detective - a mum’s gotta be _everything_. And on her worst day, my Dottie is both a terrific mother and, quite frankly, twice the policeman you are on your best.”

Constable Cooper decided to speak then, a far more in character and stupid move on his part.

“This kind of thing never happened at City North, you know! Working with all these women, everything’s all topsy turvy here. You and the DI and the rest of these men, you’re all as delusional as this killer. You’ve fallen down the rabbit hole, mate. It’s a disgrace.”

“First of all, I’m not your mate, I’m the officer who outranks you. Second, what you neglected to mention was our solve rate is three times that of City North. And third, I would argue the real disgrace is a police constable who can’t even detect that he’s both missing a button and not wearing regulation shoes. Fix your uniform and your attitude or don’t bother tagging along next time. You can leave this to the professionals.”

Constable Cooper looked down and confirmed the missing button. He opened his mouth to say something else, took one look at Hugh’s face, and turned around, heading in the general direction of the house in a huff.

 _Damn,_ Hugh, thought. _I should not have done that._ After a moment, he became aware of another person standing next to him.

“Oh well done, Hugh,” Miss Fisher praised. She was eyeing Constable Cooper’s retreat with a keen eye. The Inspector was nowhere to be seen.

“Yes, well, I’m not sure I should have done it,” he said, running his hand over his hair to smooth it, despite the fact that there was really no need. “Dottie doesn’t need me speaking for her like that.”

“Nonsense," Phryne contended. “Beside many a good woman is a good man, and there _are_ times when he will need to step in front.”

“Still…”

“And from the looks of it, you’re not the only one stepping in front today.” Phryne nodded toward the porch of the main house, where Jack was casually leaning on a post, looking over his notes, quietly saying something to Constable Cooper that had the young man perilously close to tears.

Hugh successfully bit back a grin. Phryne didn’t even try.

He relaxed a little. He probably shouldn't have gone off like that, but he didn’t regret it either. And maybe Dottie didn’t need him. But she had him anyway. And the Inspector. And Miss Fisher, who was frankly the scariest of all of them. And that made Hugh feel so much better about their unconventional arrangement. It also occurred to him, during his speech, that maybe he ought to try and make the family breakfast more often. He could learn. She could teach him. He smiled at the thought.

And if Constable Loudmouth was right, if they had fallen down the rabbit hole, well… maybe this wasn’t the kind of life he’d envisioned growing up, but it was his and he loved it and he wasn’t going anywhere.

Hugh was very happy to stay in Wonderland. 

**Author's Note:**

> So I didn’t realize this until after I posted, but I don’t think I could have purposefully chosen a better title to mark my one year anniversary of committing to writing for this fandom via last year’s Phryne Ficathon. If you’re thinking about doing it this year, and are still on the fence, I highly recommend it (signups close August 28th). I’ve challenged myself, had fun, and met amazing people over the last year. Thank you all for being so wonderful - going down the rabbit hole was an excellent decision and I am very happy to stay in Wonderland. :-)


End file.
